Once, We Burnt Bright
by LydiaXuning-fic
Summary: What Gale felt at the end of Mockingjay. His pain, bitterness, regret and longing. Set during the epilogue of Mockingjay.


**Disclaimer : I do not own the Hunger Games, no copyright infringement intended.**

**Once, We Burnt Bright**

I stared out blankly at the window. Nowadays I seemed to be doing a lot of staring. I wasn't sure if that was the only thing I was capable of doing, or that I was trying to see past that misty red haze that clouded my vision all the time. The haze, clouded with nothing but absolute bitterness, guilt, anger, loneliness and longing.

One mistake. One stupid, unthinkable mistake. That bomb. That bomb I designed together with Beetee, with solely the intention of helping the rebellion and overthrowing the Capitol. Never had I a moment wanted it to be dropped in front of a group of helpless, innocent children. _Never._

But I learnt that you never knew what might happen. Maybe it was somebody's bomb, or maybe Snow dropped a bomb of his own, or Coin purposely dropped it. It couldn't be my bomb, but it might as well be anyway. And Prim was there when it was dropped. And it indirectly killed Prim. I, Gale Hawthorne, _killed _Primrose Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen's one and only sister.

She wouldn't forgive me for that. Even if she did, she would never be able to look at me the same way. For no matter what the truth was, in her mind I would be remembered as a killer, as a murderer. A cold-hearted, revenge-driven _killer_. And I knew it. And that's why I left. Without saying I love her for one last time. We were both good at hiding feelings.

I might not want to know, but it's impossible not to when everyone's whispering about it. It'd be impossible to miss all those stares, all those looks, all those mutterings along the street, even in District Two, a place that still seemed foreign to me. She's now married to Peeta Mellark, with their two children. Their first child, a girl, has her dark hair and his blue eyes; while the second, a boy, has her grey eyes and his blond curls. My heart ached every time I thought of it, because this two children, they should both be olive skinned, with grey eyes, and dark brown hair. Mine n Katniss. Not hers and Peeta.

Despite how much I tried to hate him, I couldn't. Like what I'd said all those years ago, it'd be better if he were easier to hate. But he wasn't easy to hate, and the reason was simple. Because he gave her, give her and would still give her what I couldn't. Stableness. Calm. No such fire and anger. Katniss didn't need my fire. She had enough of it herself. She needed stability. And I couldn't give her that. Only Peeta could. I don't know which I hated more. Myself or my stupid nature. Perhaps both.

Pain stabbed me, worse than the time when I was whipped by Thread, the new peacekeeper for illegal poaching in the woods. I remembered the conversation I had with Katniss those times ago, where we both agreed that if we had to choose, a bullet would be better than dying from starvation. It was times like this where I seriously wish someone would fire a bullet at me.

I let out a sigh – or a bitter laugh – or both, perhaps, I wasn't sure. Death would ultimately be a better option than this, than what I'm going through now, than what seemed like I would be going through for forever. I thought of my life – well, as if mine was ever a _life_ now – if you take out sleeping, forcing food down my throat and working, my life might as well be classified as nothing.

I never did kiss another girl, though there are many here, many who shot me flirty eye contact which I steadfastly ignored. Because every time I looked at them, tried to tell myself that it's time to move on, that things would never ever be the same between the boy and the girl who used to go hunting every weekend, all I saw was her. Her face. _Her_. _My_ Catnip. But she wasn't mine now. She's now _Peeta's _Katniss, just like he's _Katniss' _Peeta.

In the morning I worked. At night, without the distraction of work, I stared, sinking in loneliness n nothingness. People might think that a job, a _fancy _one - as they put it - would erase all pain, but they were far from it. I never did like my job, it wasn't something I felt passionate about. My one true passion was the woods. And most disturbingly, what I even try to deny myself, is that it's the one thing that I put to block myself from Katniss, a distraction. And believe me, I hated anything that block us. But there wasn't even an _us _anymore. It's how things were now, and I couldn't change it, no matter how much I'd want to.

I do wonder if she ever thought of me, and if she did, I hoped for her sake that it would be hatred. That way it would be much easier for her. She'd move on, a life without me. Which was what it looked like, and what I hope for her, because it's what's best for her.

I tried to recall those times, those bright, shining times of us. Us out hunting on weekends, us trusting each other with our deepest secrets, us watching each other's backs. It all seemed like just yesterday, instead of a lifetime ago. I suppose that's the essence of war, where everything was inevitable. War where, everything changed, memories buried, dreams and hopes damaged. All these were inevitable, and it was now all scattered in front of me.

It was war, where only one person could be blamed. The Capitol. And I did my part in rebelling. The Capitol was now gone. But what was long gone with the Capitol, was Katniss. _My_ Catnip. And this war, it ruined Katniss as well. I never saw her that drained out, that lifeless before. But I supposed it changed. _Peeta _changed her. And I never could. I only drained her further with the devastating death of her younger sister.

As I stared out, I knew, I would see, until I grow old, beyond my heavy eyelids and emotionless eyes, would be her, would be Katniss Everdeen.

And that what I thought, with every breath I take, beyond that cloudy haze, would be, once, we burnt bright, and now, like a candle and its very end, flickering, slowly fading into absolute darkness, into utter nothingness.

**A/N : I wrote this because I never really favor the ending of Mockingjay, for Gale seemed to get the worst end of the stick, and that I'm trying to see reason behind the ending. Anyway, do tell me what you think! Thanks:) **


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